


Vergebene liebesmüh / In vain

by LoveThem2121, MermaidsandMermen (SophiaSoames)



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: A little angst, And lots of lots of love, Because Alterlove bitches, Canon Divergent, Coming Out, Happy ending but not as you might expect, M/M, Smut, because we always need a bit of smut, yup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-12 21:57:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18019202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveThem2121/pseuds/LoveThem2121, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophiaSoames/pseuds/MermaidsandMermen
Summary: I do love him. I mean of course I do, he’s been part of my life since we were toddlers in kindergarten and my Mum knows his Mum and we never stood a chance. Ever. He slept in my crib. I slept in his toddler bed.We shared baths and paddling pools and played and fought and fell out and made up and we have always been just that. Best friends. Brothers. My rock. Whilst I am his shoulder to lean on. He always tells me. Without me he would have lost it ages ago, because Matteo’s life has been shit for quite a while.He spends a lot of time sleeping in my bed, staying with me, eating with my family whilst my Mum strokes his hair and tells him that we’ve got him. Always. That makes Matteo all glassy eyed and quiet and my Mum will shoot me a knowing glance.‘Don’t.’ her will eyes warn. I know what she means. Just love him, because right now his own family is too wound up in illness and drama to notice how broken he is.And to make things even worse, I am probably about to epically and friendship-crunchingly awkwardly stomp on his already fragile heart.





	Vergebene liebesmüh / In vain

**Author's Note:**

> So Jonas has been acting all weird? And you wonder why, with Matteo for a best friend and Hanna making a mess of everything? Yup, it had to be done. 
> 
> I was itching to write Ger-Even, but I don't want to mess up the pain and thills that we are about to endure in the next 10 weeks, so I will give you this little side track of Jotteo to line us up for season 3 at the weekend. 
> 
> Thank you as always to the AMAZING Lovethem2121 who has worked with me on this and created the gorgeous visuals. 
> 
> Julia, who works tirelessly on the SKAM BIG BANGS and makes all of this happen. Thank you. 
> 
> Pagni, Bewa, Evak4Ever and everyone else who has proofread, talked to me, helped me research and cheered me along. 
> 
> And a massive thank you to YOU for reading, because without you this would all fall flat. 
> 
> There is a playlist of songs I listended to obsessively whilst writing this, which includes the awesome IN VAIN from Within Temptation. The list is linked below. 
> 
> And anyone needing handholding as we crash head first into Matteo's season, I am right here next to you. You are not alone. Elu are heading into disaster and Matteo is a mess. Spring has never been more exciting. 
> 
> All the love, Always. S

 

**Vergebene liebesmüh / In vain.**

**[Jonas and Matteo's spotify playlist.](https://open.spotify.com/user/maxmagnusmimi/playlist/2fo96UPn71cv8519qZlYfr?si=S1TPyt85SFClBvOdwKR4NQ)**

I am bricking it. Totally.

Which is ridiculous since I am just going for breakfast with my best friend in the whole wide world. Yeah, because that should be totally normal and not gut-splintering stomach churningly awkward.

Which is all my fault.

 

_Scheiße_

 

I have been brought up by parents who are so open-minded that it is ridiculous. They love me. They love everything. I mean my Mum and Dad join the Pride parade every year waving banners with my uncle who is awesomely and unpologetically gay. They sign petitions for equality and fight for every bloody cause. We have a fucking rainbow flag on the fridge.

I’m still behaving like a judgemental bigoted twat.

 

_Scheiße Scheiße Scheiße, Shit Shit SHIT._

 

Normally I would have just turned up at Matteo’s house and thrown myself on his bed play-wrestling with him until he punched me in the stomach (not too hard) and he would have pretended to kiss me on the cheek. Cause he does that. Like a lot.

I’ve never even questioned it. He just pouts at me. Sometimes he kisses my cheek. Sometimes he just laughs at me pretending to try to get away from him. I never do. I don’t mind. It’s who Matteo is. Tactile friendly loving and totally cute. In a non-gay way. Seriously.

I’ve had a girlfriend. And another one. I’ve had sex so many times that I have lost count. I love girls. Pussy. Smooth skin and rounded hips. Boobs. Soft lips and long hair and, well, I shagged a girl with short hair too who was totally hot. I have never once in my life even considered having sex with a bloke.

I still don’t.

Well I completely blame Hanna and her gaggle of friends and her inability to handle her drink. Hanna. Who is also like my best friend in the whole wide world. She is the prettiest sexiest most gorgeous little thing and I adore her to the point of insanity. Sometimes I want her back so much I have a little cry. Other times I know she is right. We fucked up our relationship with mind-games and lies and other people because we were both stupid and couldn’t keep ourselves straight. I learned my lesson. I am never going to lie to people I love again.

Which is why I am meeting Matteo in a café. Because I am shit scared about what I am about to do. And because I do love him. I mean of course I do, he’s been part of my life since we were toddlers in kindergarten and my mum knows his mum and we never stood a chance. Ever. He slept in my crib. I slept in his toddler bed.

We shared baths and paddling pools and played and fought and fell out and made up and we have always been just that. Best friends. Brothers. My rock. Whilst I am his shoulder to lean on. He always tells me. Without me he would have lost it ages ago, because Matteo’s life has been shit for quite a while.

He spends a lot of time sleeping in my bed, staying with me, eating with my family whilst my Mum strokes his hair and tells him that we’ve got him. Always. That makes Matteo all glassy eyed and quiet and My Mum will shoot me a knowing glance.

‘Don’t.’ her will eyes warn. I know what she means. Just love him, because right now his own family is too wound up in illness and drama to notice how broken he is.

And to make things even worse, I am probably about to epically and friendship-crunchingly awkwardly stomp on his already fragile heart.

 

It’s Hanna’s fault. She should just have kept her bloody gossiping mouth firmly shut and not told me. It was not her place to tell me, breaking the confidence Matteo no doubt entrusted her with. Not that I totally understood how she knows all these facts that she was whispering to me last night when she crawled into my arms and fell asleep against my shoulder, her alcohol fuelled breath making me turn away from her and push her already limp body away from me whilst my mind spun in confusion.

She said Matteo was gay. Definitely and irrevocably. He had kind of admitted to it. And that it had taken her all of a day and a bit to figure it all out.

Matteo liked boys. His phone was full of gay porn. And he looked at me like he wanted to eat me. _And last night he had snogged the hell out of Sara_ , I had said triumphantly whilst Hanna had shook her head and laughed. _Kissing someone wasn’t the same_ , she had laughed back  at me, and anyway she had kissed Mia and that didn’t make it anything else than that. Kissing. Very nice kissing, but she wasn’t about to skip off into the sunset with Mia. Alex would have a few things to say about that, and anyway. Hanna likes cock too much to become a full time lesbian. Her words not mine.

I had called bullshit. She had almost slapped me and told me to man the fuck up and open my eyes to the truth. That I was breaking his bloody heart every fucking day whilst talking crap and kissing other girls right in front of him. That I needed to be sensitive to his feelings and first of all tell him that I knew and that it was totally cool. She had talked to all her friends about it and they had all agreed that is what I needed to do.

 

Thank you Hanna. Thank you Hanna’s fucking friends. Because she might trust them, but I had to get to Matteo first before the whole school found out that this little secret of his. That might not be a secret at all. Or whatever. What do I know. I think I am as confused as he is.

No, no no, not about being gay. I’m not gay. Not bi. Nothing. I like girls, OK? I just don’t get it. If it is true, then how the hell did I not know? Why didn’t he tell me? Me? His best friend?

Well if I think about it I kind of know the answer to that. Awkward. Shit awkward.

But then Matteo and I have done awkward to death. I made him look at my dick once because I had spots. He just laughed at me and dragged me off to the sexual health clinic. Awkward as fuck but a tube of cream later (and the extreme embarrassment of having to pull my dick out of my pants in front of a total stranger) I was back to one fully clean nice smooth dick. _Thank you Matteo_.

He has told me everything that’s going on with his family. He holds _NOTHING_ back. He trusts me. Well I thought he did. Bastard.

The fabric of my t-shirt is soaked under my arms as I push the door open to **_Zeit fur Brot_ **, the local breakfast café that Matteo and I splash out for sometimes when we feel we need to be all adult and grown up and not have like chocolate spread and Frosties for breakfast. This place is like all artisan breads and nicely laid out cold-cut breakfast platters where someone has actually taken the time to fold the salami and cut the cheese into awkward shapes and  to top it all off they have these awesome white chocolate and raspberry swirled pastries. Total heaven. Well. Normally.

Normally Matteo would have ordered the full breakfast platter thing and be sitting there nursing a coffee playing on his phone. He would have gotten up and given me one of his shit eating grin smiles and hugged me and shoved a piece of pastry in his mouth then sat down and just talked nonsense for the first 10 minutes until he has calmed down and the sugar rush starts to take over and his legs fidget and he almost shakes with excitement. Matteo is a total child. Still.

Today he is sitting at the back table looking crushed. His phone upside down on the table and his jumper is inside out. He probably hasn’t noticed.

Normally I would have just sat down and smiled. Normally. Today my bum touches the seat and I feel like running off to the toilet and retching.

Not that I am disgusted by him or anything like that, I’m just not good at talking about my own feelings. Of stripping him bare in public with something as personal as the things I am about to ask him. Which is a total shit move from my part. I should have done this at home in my empty flat, in peace and quiet and safety. I just didn’t dare too, because in my stupidity I thought maybe this would be easier. Better . Safer. Protecting Matteo from himself, because if he breaks down and cries I don’t know what to do.

I suddenly know why people ghost people. Why it sometimes is easier to totally cut people off and ignore them than to deal with reality. Yet I could never just do that to Matteo, I know that. Our friendship would have to have gone really bad for that. We promised each other. Zu Asche, Zu Staub. Ashes to ashes, Dust to dust.  That’s what we said when we were kids. That we would be friends until we were buried in matching coffins by some futuristic vicar quoting lyrics from whatever songs we were into at the moment.

So I don’t understand why I am feeling like I am about to destroy the only solid good relationship that I have in my life. Well apart from my parents and sister, but they’re like practically genetically coded to love me, I don’t doubt that they do, but, yeah. You know what I mean. Matteo is different. If I lost him my life would change forever, and I have no intention of losing him. Which means I can’t lie. OR cheat. Or be stupid. I have to be honest and frank and tell him the truth.

Which is hard to do when the bloke who I am trying to speak to won’t even look up at me.

‘’Matteo.’’ I start.

‘’Sorry’’ He replies.

 

We’re quiet. Fucking awkward.

 

‘’Are you going to order something boys?’’ the waitress shouts from the counter, ‘’Otherwise there are people waiting for tables?’’

Matteo just shakes his head. And I kind of agree, I don’t think I could eat anything right now.

 

We half stumble out of the place, past the queue of people that is running out the door, letting our feet just carry us out on the square, the dusky winter wind blowing his fringe out of his eyes. He looks like he has been crying already.

‘’Hanna texted me this morning to say she was really drunk last night and had told you a load of stuff. She apologized by the way, I’m not sure for what.’’

‘’Is it true?’’ I ask. Blunt and Insensitive. Accusatory instead of understanding and kind. Fuck my life.

‘’I don’t know what she thinks she knows. All I know is that I’m the one who fucked up your relationship. It was my fault.’’ He snivels and looks away, as I grab his arm and pretty much force him to sit down on the bench we are passing. I know what he is referring to, some shit we got ourselves into that Matteo thinks is his fault. He behaved like a snake but whatever. It’s way past us now and to be honest I don’t think I even care anymore.

‘’Talk.’’ I demand. ‘’I am totally lost now, because that is NOT what Hanna said to me.’’

‘’Oh.’’ He replies.

****

Then we are quiet again. Awkwardly so.

 

I glance over at him, letting my eyes see him. In a way I am seeing what I always see. The sharp nose. The straggly hair that he never cuts unless I pretty much drag him off to the hairdresser and pay for the cut. Matteo is always broke, not through his own fault, his parents are kind of too preoccupied to notice that their kid needs new shoes and that he’s lost weight again and the skinny jeans he wears are practically sliding down his hips when he walks. Also that it is winter is kind of obvious and I know full well that Matteo doesn’t even own a proper winter jacket since he is still wearing one of mine.

‘’What did Hanna tell you?’’ Matteo speaks out into the square. I hate that he’s not looking at me, because usually he is right in my face. This is not who he is. It’s not who we are.

‘’She told me some pretty personal things about you that she found out by mistake. She borrowed your phone and saw some things.’’ I am trying to keep my voice calm and steady.

‘’The fuck?’’

He’s looking at me. Thank God. A bit of anger is better than this limp mess that is sitting his skinny arse down on the bench next to me.

 

‘’She said your phone is full of gay porn.’’

 

Good one Jonas. Now Matteo’s face is bright red. Yeah because if it is something Matteo can’t do, that is lie in my face. He never could. His face blooms with colour if you even mention something he did when we were kids, something embarrassing or so. And he does it when my Mum kisses his cheek. And when I tease him. And apparently when I call him out on not being totally straight.

 

‘’Fuck’’ He whispers.

 

‘’Matteo’’ I almost whine. ‘’It’s totally chill. Honestly. I don’t give a fuck if you fancy boys or girls or want to shag sheep. Well. Maybe not sheep. That’s pretty gross.’’

I’m trying to make light of it whilst there is a tiny tear forming in Matteo’s eye.

‘’She told everyone then.’’

 

I just want to scoop him up and hug him, because, yeah. That probably sums it all up. If the girls were out drunk last night and Hanna, fuelled by copious amounts of Riesling and cheap vodka, ended up in my bed at midnight blurting out a load of things that she would never had dared to say in the morning, then yes. By now everyone will be talking.

 

‘’Sorry’’ I say. I am saying that a lot today.

‘’I…’’ Matteo starts, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. ‘’Shit.’’

‘’It doesn’t have to be shit. It’s OK ‘Teo. ‘’ I try.

‘’You’re not the one whose life is about to go to hell. You’re not the one who will have everyone side eyeing you for the rest of your life. It’s not you who will have to listen to the guys in the changing rooms making stupid remarks about not sharing a shower with the faggot. It’s not about you Jonas."

 

Now Matteo is shouting, kicking his legs around and his hands are shaking a little.

 

‘’Teo, you need food. We need to get some food and coffee into you and then we'll talk.’’

‘’What is there to talk about? You do realize everyone will think you are a faggot too. You do realize that I am about to lose everything. Including you. That you will just laugh at me with everyone else and nothing, I mean…’’ Matteo stands up and stomps around on the gravelled path in front of me.

‘’Why the hell would you lose me? Man? Come on. This is 2019 ‘Teo. People don’t give a flying fuck who you love. ‘’ I am standing up now as well, letting my arms flay. Because come on. Me. Like I would ever be an arse and not be his friend. He’s my ‘Teo. He always has been always will be.

‘’Oh get real Jonas. When all the dudes are ganging up and making fun of me, will you stand up for me? Really?’’ He’s all blotchy and snotty, looking like shit. All unhinged and upset and talking a load of crap.

‘’I would NEVER EVER _not_ stand up for you. The fuck ‘Teo? Have I ever let you down? Not sorted you out? I’m hurt.’’

 

I fucking am. But then I know Matteo is upset. Really fucking so. Not that I blame him. This is a shit place for him to be in and he hasn’t even admitted to it. Really. We are just skirting around the subject in anger instead of being real.

So I grab him. Shove him hard against a tree in the middle of a city square park, where everyone can see us. Well a few random people strolling about, all heading for the bakery for their morning bread. Totally normal. Well except for me and Matteo shouting at each other and the fact that he is now sagging against me full on crying into my shoulder.

Fuck.

‘’Matteo.’’ I start. Then stop and take a deep breath.

‘’We’re OK. I’m OK. And you are going to be OK. We are still us. You and me. ‘’

‘’No. We are not. Everything is different. You will look at me different from now on. You will always question every move. Every glance. Every word. I know how this shit works because I have been me all my life. I question everything. Every fucking thing. ‘’

‘’Then stop fucking questioning everything.’’ I say and swallow a giggle. He’s so bloody over dramatic.

‘’Fuck off.’’ He snarls, whist I hold him tight against me.

‘’Fuck off yourself. Arsehole. Why didn’t you tell me? You could have fucking told me and not let me hear it from gossip central. ‘’

‘’You know why. I didn’t want to. I don’t want anything to change. I don’t want people to know. I don’t want people to judge me and talk about me and I just want everything go away and everyone to leave me the fuck alone.’’

He’s snivelling into my chest now, deep rooted sobs that make me all tearful. I hate that he’s so upset. I hate that there is so much fear and pain in his body. I hate that he feels that he has to be alone in all this, because he is. There’s nobody Matteo confides in apart from me. And Hanna apparently.

‘’I thought we shared everything.’’ I start, quietly.

‘’There are somethings I just can’t tell you.’’ He slobbers back.

‘’Stop slobbering over my jacket. It was 300 euros this thing. ‘’

 

I’m trying to joke but he’s not laughing. Just rubs his face in my jacket. Again.

 

‘’But, If I know the truth now? You can talk to me. Is there anything else you want to tell me?’’

‘’No.’’

‘’So it’s true. You are attracted to men. You’re queer. Is that the right way to describe it?’’

 

I am trying to say the right thing here.

Matteo says nothing. Just breathes into my jacket whilst I am absentmindedly stroking his back. Sniffing his hair.

 

In a way I am dead calm now. Because he’s here and yes, he’s upset and falling apart and in a total state, but he’s with me. I’ve got him. I would hate for it to be someone else to comfort him when he needs it. It’s always been me. It’s my job.

 

‘’Being your best friend sucks.’’ I start.

 

He snorts. Good.

 

‘’Not only do you snot all over my clothes but I have to starve to death because you won’t even buy me breakfast. ‘’

‘’Can’t eat. I want to throw up when I think about everything. I will have to go to school on Monday. I can’t do it. I’ll have to change schools. Move to outer Siberia.’’

‘’Don’t be so fucking stupid.’’ I snarl out. Because he’s being _really_ stupid.

‘’My life is over.’’

‘’Bullshit.’’

‘’And I will never find anyone who will want to fuck me anyway.’’

‘’That’s better.’’ I say. Snarky sassy Matteo is still there. Hiding under all the sadness and anger and tears.

‘’I just want someone to fall in love with me and love me. I just want to be happy. Is that too much to ask? I just want to have someone who needs me and loves me. Someone who will love me back.’’

‘’Of course you will. Anyone would be mad not to want to be with you. You are funny and awesome and the coolest dude I know.’’

‘’No. The people you fall in love with don’t always love you back. It’s a fact of life. The chance of meeting someone who will fall in love with you the same way you fall in love with them is so miniscule it’s ridiculous. It just doesn’t happen.’’

There is so much snot and tears and crap on Matteo’s face and my jacket now that I actually get my sleeve up and mush it all over his face, making him laugh and swat his arms at me. Yeah, and we get some snarky comment from a lady passing us as we are now play wrestling amongst the trees and almost get taken out by a kid on a bike. Not cool. Definitely not fitting behaviour for two almost grown up blokes.

Not that we are grown up. Not at all.

‘’Teo, remember on your sixteenth birthday we had breakfast up at the TV tower? To celebrate?’’

‘’Yeah’’ he snorts.

 

He still looks like shit. His face all puffy and his eyes flickering as his gaze just briefly meets mine.

 

‘’Come. Let’s have posh breakfast at the top of the world. To celebrate.’’

‘’Celebrate that my life is over? That my life has gone to shit? That I have just doomed my last years of school to be the outcast? That queer dude?’’

 

He’s being totally unreasonable.

 

‘’Look,’’ I say and grab his arm, trying to get him to walk with me. ‘’We are going to celebrate you coming out. That you are finally free to be who you want to be. That you will meet an awesome boyfriend who will love the shit out of you.’’ I try to get him to walk. To get him to move whilst he drags his feet looking totally miserable.

‘’AND…’’ I try to sound enthusiastic. ‘’Chicks love gay guys. Totally. They all swoon over these gay pop stars and they all want to have a gay best friend to help them do their makeup and clothes and ..’’

‘’Do I fucking look like someone like that? Like someone who wants to wear makeup and ..’’

Matteo looks fuming. Distraught. Like yeah. That was the totally wrong thing to say.

‘’Sorry. No. Absolutely not. That was a stupid thing to say.’’ I try.

‘’I’m not a different person just because I love someone who is a dude. I’m still just me. Me. ‘’

He’s almost shouting at me again.

‘’Just because I am in love with someone who will never love me back, and who will never even consider the fact that if he let me kiss him, I might just blow his mind. Someone who doesn’t even see me like that. And if he just let me, if he could just see me, all of me, maybe I could make him the happiest person alive.’’

 

He stops walking, like he has been stunned.

 

And to be honest I am not moving a muscle.

 

‘’You can’t make people fall in love with other people. It has to just happen on it’s own.’’ I say, my voice not quite sounding like me.

‘’Maybe it’s already happened but the other dude just can’t see it.’’ Matteo almost whispers, and he’s looking right at me. Finally. Looking at me.

‘’I love you Teo, I have always loved you, you’re my best friend in the whole wide world.’’

 

Yeah. That’s a crap way to start, because now I have to add the big BUT at the end and explain that I just don’t want to marry him and all that.

 

‘’So you know.’’ Matteo says. Sounding deflated.

‘’Yeah.’’ I reply. My voice barely a whisper. ‘’Hanna told me. Said I needed to talk to you and start thinking about not hurting you every fucking second of the day. ‘’

 

He just snorts again.

 

‘’I didn’t know. If I had known I wouldn’t have behaved like an arse. I couldn’t have done things differently because I didn’t know Matteo, because you never fucking told me!’’

‘’Well if I had told you you would have told me to fuck off. ‘’

‘’I would never have told you to fuck off.’’

‘’Well you are about to now. All that shit about loving me and being my best friend, now you just have to tell me that you don’t think of me in that way and we can only be friends and that is the first step in the inevitable doom of you never talking to me again.’’

‘’You are such a fucking dickhead. If you think I would do that then you don’t fucking know me at all.’’

‘’I do fucking know you. All you talk about is girls and pussy and getting some. We have nothing in common anymore. Nothing. What are we going to talk about? Me wanting some dick?’’

‘’God you are a child.’’

‘’Arsehole.’’

I take a few determined steps away from him. Like I would walk away now. Like I really want to because he is behaving like an entitled twat and I am honestly not sure what I am doing myself. Apart from that I am starving and that I am not letting him win this. He’s not losing me and I am fucking not losing him. Not over something as stupid as this.

 

‘’Matteo.’’ I turn around to see him standing there with his arms crossed over his chest.

‘’Jonas.’’ He says back.

 

‘’We are going to get through this. Nothing will change. I am taking you for breakfast and we are going to have some Sect and croissants and eggs and shit, and you are going to eat it and we are going to toast to new beginnings and you are going to be fucking happy and I am going to be fucking relieved that at least my best friend loves me. ‘’

 

‘’I do love you.’’ Matteo says. Quietly. But there is a little glimmer of a sparkle in his left eye.

‘’I love you too.’’ I counter. ‘’I’m just not sure I want to suck your dick.’’

 

We are going to have to joke about this, otherwise we won’t survive. We need to make this work. Kill all this weirdness that has come out of our mouths. Because I do love him. More than he knows.

 

‘’My dick is awesome. But you are a fucking chicken. I bet you would love to suck my dick.’’

 

He’s teasing. Of course he is, and I am cracking a relieved smile.

 

‘’I’m never chicken.’’ I say.

‘’Well you’re not even willing to let me kiss you, so I will just have to somehow get over the fact that the most handsome man in the world will never suck my dick. Fuck.’’

‘’You don’t have to make everything into a joke.’’ I warn. He’s doing it again. Making light of what he was bawling his eyes out over before. It’s very him. Swinging from the depths of despair to sarcasm in under a minute.

‘’It’s not a joke.’’ He says, and he looks like he means it.

‘’I know. And it’s something you will have to talk to me about, because I need to be able to handle it and not make things worse than I already have. I need to be your best friend ‘Teo. I need you as much as I hope you need me. ‘’

‘’You have loads of friends.’’ Matteo pouts. ‘’You don’t need me.’’

‘’There is no one else who has Sunday breakfast with me. There is no one else who spends a whole day playing Fifa with me. There is no one else who let’s me moan and bitch and scream at them over stupid things. There is no one else that makes me laugh like you. I need you. I always have. Always will.’’

‘’Then you are going to meet some chick and forget I even exist. Forget to meet up and forget to come skateboarding on a Saturday and cancel Sunday breakfast. Like you did when you were with Hanna. You don’t always need me.’’

‘’I know I can be a jerk. I know, Hanna told me enough times.’’

‘’Then for once don’t be a dick.’’

‘’And do what?’’

‘’Own up to the truth. That you and I will not make it. We won’t always be close and hang out all the time and one day I will just be a memory, this dude you hung out with when you were a kid. This dude who once mattered. One day you will barely remember me.’’

‘’Stop talking like that.’’ He makes me angry. He makes me so fucking angry talking crap like that.

‘’It’s true though? That’s what happens. People forget. ‘’

‘’You are an arsehole Matteo.’’ He’s going to make me cry now. Like he would just forget me and walk away just because whatever.

‘’Well it’s better to admit it. Things will never be the same.’’

 

I don’t know what gets into me, but I am suddenly flying with anger. Like I should punch him in the face and tell him that he should think before shitting all over my feelings. That he’s not the only person in the world. That it’s not all about him and his fucking sexuality and some stupid girls talking a load of shite that everyone will have forgotten by Friday. This is him trying to push me away. This is him trying to make me hate him so I will push him away too. I know how he functions. I know that he is hurting, hurting worse than he has ever done before. I know his home life has practically fallen apart, and that this on top of it must be terrifying to have this bloody canon of gossip shot at him on a Sunday morning, but it’s not all about him. It’s not all about him at all.

‘’It’s not all about you.’’ I almost shout, shoving him away from me with two hands and a firm push on his shoulders. ‘’It’s about me too. Stop trying to scare me off. Stop fucking pushing me away. Stop threatening me with cutting me lose from you, because that is not going to happen. You are my bloody Matteo, and the thought of you going off snogging some other dude is driving me fucking rabid.’’

Yeah now I am talking a load of shite, but that’s what has been swirling in my head all morning. The thought of Matteo belonging to someone else is apparently making me jealous. Well fuck me. Who would have thought. I suppose he’s never really had a girlfriend. My status as his no1 has never really been threatened and my inner Alpha dude is wild and rampant like a bloody caveman.

Matteo is saying nothing, apparently stunned by my little Neanderthalian outburst. Whilst I am waving my arms around and stomping worse than Matteo.

‘’How many times do I have to say it? I don’t care who you fancy or if you want to spend the rest of your life sucking dick, but you are my best friend and I love you even though you are behaving like an entitled twat and I don’t want anything to change and I just want to go and have breakfast with you and talk a load of crap and watch the views and I want us to be normal. ‘’

Yeah here we go. Tears. Me. Jonas Augustin. Dude. Almost grown up. 18, Strong independent and not a virgin in any sense of the word. Me. I’m standing here crying because of the thought of my Matteo not wanting to be what he is. Obviously. Mine.

 

Because that is the root of it. Isn’t it? Me being possessive. Me being me. Me wanting everything. Greedy. Me _Me ME_.

 

Or maybe not. Maybe it’s just that he is this annoying skinny little kid who has always been around. The kid who has idolized me since we were stupid brats playing in the sandpit. This annoying kid who has been my shoulder to cry on. My support. My friend. My partner in crime. My breakfast date. The guy who taught me to dance. The guy who taught me to roll a joint. The dude who force-fed me 90ies rap until I had to give in and agree it was epic. The one who pushed me to do better at school. The one who falls asleep in my bed with his arms slung around his little skinny body, hugging himself almost to keep himself together through the night.

 

The boy who is so broken but somehow makes me whole.

 

I’m obviously delirious with hunger. I am obviously losing my mind. But I lunge at him. Like you do.

 

I grab his shoulders and push him into another bloody tree. Bloody convenient trees in this bloody square and there is a bloody pigeon scrambling by our feet but I don’t care. Because I don’t know what I am doing, and Matteo is staring at me like the pig headed little shit he is. His fringe blowing out of his face in the wind and his eyes wet from tears and his face all blotchy and somehow, he is just who he is. He’s mine. My annoying little shit. My Matteo.

So, I cup his chin in my hand, my standard Jonas move. I know this shit, because I pull it on girls all the time. It usually gives me a little buzz, angling their face. Letting me have control and lining their mouth up so I can just nip at their lips. Give them a little taste of what’s to come before I go full on in with the kissing.

I don’t think Matteo knows what’s hit him though, when my mouth comes crashing down on his. I don’t mean to be so forceful. I don’t know what the hell I am doing to be honest, just that I am sucking at his mouth and his hand is cupping my arse and fuck my life.

It’s not like this with girls. At least not with the girls I have been with. It’s nothing like this. The soft stubble of his chin rubbing against my cheek. The hardness of his chest pushed against mine. The rough shove he gives me that makes me tumble over and land on my arse.

‘’WTF Jonas.’’ He hollers. Yeah. Because now he is mad.

‘’Fucking idiot.’’ I retaliate.

‘’Don’t you dare.’’ He howls, whilst I scramble to my feet and lunge at him.

 

I don’t get very far, because Matteo might be a skinny little shit, but he’s strong as an ox. He could always overpower me in a wrestle and has me pinned to the tree in an instant, his face up against mine, his nose squashed so hard against the bone in my own nose, that I am afraid he will break it.

I close my eyes waiting for the punch. The shove. Whatever he is about to dish out at me.

Because I deserve it. Because I did everything Hanna told me not to do. I am hurting him. Toying with his feelings. Squashing the tiny bit of dignity, I had left him with.

 

Instead he smashes his mouth on mine, sucking greedily at my bottom lip.

 

My brain has obviously short circuited at that. Because I have been kissed before. I have had sex. I know the semantics of the whole thing, how my body is supposed to react and how my limbs should join in with my partners dance of kissing. Hands on her hips. Maybe one hand in her hair. Slow little licks of my tongue asking permission to enter her mouth.

There is none of that happening here. Matteo’s tongue is in my mouth, eating me like he’s having dinner. Or dessert. What do I know? Because I am right there with him, both my hands in his hair, tugging at the strands on his head with a desperation I didn’t know I had in me.

 

‘’Fuck’’ I hiss out when he comes up for air. Panting like he has just run a marathon, the look in his eyes wild with something I don’t quite know what it is.

 

He doesn’t respond to that, just hurls his mouth at mine again and I make a stupid noise with relief.

 

Please don’t stop. Please. Because if this is all I have left of him, then I will have it. All of it. I don’t care. All I know is that my mouth is slobbering clumsily against his determined lips and that my hands are still giving him some kind of fucked up head massage whilst his hands are now folding themselves around my neck and he does a little huff and then jumps up, his knees climbing me like a tree whilst I manage to catch his arse and jerk my hips enough to get him up in my arms. Yeah. I have all 80 kilos of Matteo in my arms, he weighs a ton but in my head he is weightless as he pins my head back, stretching my neck letting his lips kiss my jawline, which apparently makes me purr like a kitten.

Who would have guessed? I was apparently doing this all wrong. All this time. All these girls and all the time nobody figured out that licking down my neck, from just under my ear, makes my cock twitch like it’s being electrocuted? Where the hell was that in the handbook of Sex? And suddenly I am not hungry at all. Not for food. I want to rip his bloody inside-out jumper off and lick his skin. I want to suck on his nipples and feel them harden in my mouth. I want him to kiss me. I want him to lie on top of me and I want to feel his weight on me and his groin grind against mine as he is doing now.

 

I push him off me with a terrifying realization.

 

‘’Sorry.’’ He pants, letting his hands fall onto his knees. To anyone walking past he probably looks like he’s been running. Well that’s a lie since anyone walking past would have seen him eating my face for breakfast but whatever. ‘’I’m so so sorry.’’

‘’Matteo’’ I whinge.

‘’I should go.’’ He almost whispers, the realization of what we just let happen getting to him too.

He turns around tugging his jacket around his body, his head falling back as he gasps for breath.

“At least I’m not chicken.” My stupid mouth says.

Yeah. I’m an idiot. Obviously. I stand there almost frozen in place as I let Matteo walk away from me, his shoulders hunched up almost to his ears and his hands deep in the pockets of his jacket. My jacket.

I sigh, louder than I should. He was right. He was right all along. Things would never ever be the same again.

I don’t hear from him all weekend and to be very honest with myself, I am a chicken. A total chicken. Because it should be me texting him to apologize. No, no no no, it should be me rigning him to apologize. It should be me going to his house and demanding to see him and talk to him and make things better.

I do none of those things. At least I go to school, which Matteo doesn’t. He doesn’t turn up all week which is kind of shite since we are doing important recaps and mock tests and he should be here. He needs to be here. I still do what I always do, take notes and take photos of the paperwork and send them to him on WhatsApp. Not saying a word. Pretending this is normal whilst my whole body jumps every time my phones pings with any kind of notification. I am hoping it’s him, yet fearing seeing his name on the screen. It’s never him. It’s almost like he’s disappeared out of my life and it’s a fucking shite place to be. My life without him is crap.

I try to talk to Hanna but she kind of ignores me. Side eyes me like she knows exactly what I have done and is totally blaming me for whatever state Matteo is in. Which must be bad for him to not even turn up at school. Risking his graduation, for what? For a lame kiss with a straight dude? I mean, he knows we can laugh this off. He knows we can just hug it out and get on with our lives. We could. It’s not hard. It’s just that I no longer know if I want to.

It’s the damn darkness, the times when I lie in my bed fully determined to jack one off and go to sleep. Tissue in my hand ready to wipe up the evidence. A head full of hot large breasted hot girls licking their lips at me grinding seductively in my head, ready to go. It’s just that the second my hand hits my cock, the headcanons change. All I feel is soft stubble against my cheek and his lips on mine and his hair in my hands and my head painting pictures of pale skin and his sharp hip bone under my palm and my fingers stroking the waistband of his briefs and I have to sit up and put the light on and scream in frustration.

If Hanna was there, she would give me a firm push in the chest. Laugh that little laugh she does and say, _Dude. So you are a little bit bi. Deal with it._

I’m not. I don’t think. And anyway, it is perfectly normal to fantasize about things, things that you would never in a million years want to happen to you in real life. Like whips and chains. Being chained to a bed and having a hot leather clad woman stroke my cock with a leather whip? Hot. Makes me hard. No questions asked. Doesn’t mean I actually want it to happen because I am pretty sure that the minute that whip hit my arse I would be whining like a baby and have zero erection at all and run away screaming blue murder. The thought though? I can come playing that scene out in my head, no problem.

And now, the thought of having Matteo, even half naked in my bed and letting me kiss him and touch him is making me hard.

I try to tune it out. Make the hot leather clad girls dance under my eyelids. They don’t, they just fuck off and leave me back in the fantasy with the skinny bloke again and to say I whine out loud in frustration is an understatement.

I am not getting any sleep. I am moody and broody. I pick up my phone and then throw it back down again. At least at school I can get on with work and clear my head for a few minutes, until I stare over at the empty desk next to me and it all comes crashing down on me again. It’s making me anxious and I can’t sleep and I am so fucking confused.

It’s a week later that I finally catch sight of his back on a Tuesday morning, skipping down the stairs from the school office, with his snapback covered by a hoodie, like I wouldn't recognize him anywhere. Like he thinks he can hide.

He just walks towards the school gates, pretending he’s invisible, whilst I run to catch up with him. Not that I know what I am going to say to him. Not that I understand shit right now. Not that I think I want to.

I catch him from behind. I catch him hard pulling his body against mine. He’s mine. Mine Mine Mine.

‘’Please don’t run from me. Please show me what this is. Please just help me understand, because I don’t understand shit right now. Please tell me what’s going on.’’ I whine out in sheer frustrated desperation.

‘’Nothing is going on Jonas.” He spits out. “So just leave me the fuck alone.”

We don’t speak at all after that, we just walk, clumsily stumbling over our own feet, side by side through the streets, getting on the street tram like zombies. I wish I knew what to say to him. I wish he would talk to me. In a way I wish he would just speak to me like he usually would, rambling on about nothing and everything in a mishmash of rubbish until I would swat him over the head and tell him to shut the fuck up.

I wish everything was back to normal.

Yet at the same time EVERYTHING has changed and to be honest I’m not sure I want to change it back.

I practically drag him off the tram at my stop, too terrified that he wouldn’t follow me if I didn’t pretty much force him to go with me. I need him with me today, to negotiate this maze of emotions that I have got myself stuck in.

 

I get Matteo being gay. That is fine. That is one hundred percent fine. I get that he can kiss like a bloody movie star. Yup. That’s pretty brilliant. I want lessons. I need to know how he does that thing with his tongue at the back of my throat. I need to know why it makes my cock behave like it’s Christmas morning.

 

Yet, I don’t know shit. I still hold onto his jacket sleeve like I am dragging him to his cell and I am his bloody prison guard or something. Which is something my brain immediately files away as another sexual fantasy whilst my head screams out in frustration.

I manage to get him inside the front door to before jumping him. Well done Jonas. I just can’t help it. My whole body is screaming for more of his lips. More of his hands on my body. More of the little panting he does when I let my lips roam over his face. I kiss his eyelids. His perfect cheekbones. The tip of his nose.

I suck on his top lip whilst his bottom lip tugs at my skin. My teeth clash with his and my tongue is all over the place but I don’t care.

If I did care I would take note of the time, but it’s still early, and Mum and Dad take my sisters to this horse-riding place on Tuesday afternoons and they are usually not back for a few hours so I feel pretty safe yanking Matteo’s jumper over his head and throwing it carelessly out of sight whilst my breath hitches at the sight of him.

His mouth is open, his jaw hanging slack. His eyes piercing me with wonder and awe as I just stare at him.

His pale skin is stretched tight over his torso, the definition of his chest slightly sharper than mine, his flat brown nipples already wound into tight little buds. His chest carry the same flush as his face, and I don’t even dare letting my eyes trail down his stomach where his hips form a perfectly shaped V disappearing into his skinny jeans.

“What the fuck are you doing?” He snarls. “Seriously dude. This is NOT cool.” He’s holding his hands out, like he wants to push me away. Like he has to protect himself. Like I have just totally violated his personal space with my stupid idiotic fantasies that should obviously live in my head. Where they belong. On a permanent basis.

I close my eyes to regain some kind of control. I mean this is me. I’m never like this. I am calm and collective. I am the Casanova of seduction, slow and suave churning out a soundtrack of crap that girls like to hear. I think. With Matteo I can’t get a fucking word out.

Not that I need to because he is now walking me backwards into my room, kicking the door shut with a slam behind me whilst I fall helplessly onto my bed with Matteo straddling me like he is going to ride me into the bloody sunset.

Well I won’t say no to that. There is nothing right now that he could do to me that I would say no to. I don’t care. I just want to see what this is. I want to see where we can take this. I want to know if this is what I think it is. A treasure trove of emotions and stuff I didn’t even know existed and now that I have kind of cracked the lid, I want everything. I want Matteo to show me. I want him to calm me. Own me. Need me in ways I didn’t even think I wanted him to need me.

I tug my t-shirt over my head and without even thinking my hands are unbuckling my belt, then one hand is trying to get my jeans button undone whilst my other hand is joining his hands on his own jeans and there are clothes and pants and bloody socks flying through the room whilst the sound of our laughter is freeing and amazing and my chest suddenly feels like it will explode unless I get him back on top of me.

‘’Come here’’ I say as the weight of his now naked body falls against mine.

My cock is rock hard, now squashed between us. I can feel him as well. His dick stabbing me in the groin.

At one time in my life I would have found this unthinkable. Now though. I don’t know what to think.

 

‘’Kiss me.’’ I demand.

’’Make me’’ He whispers.

 

Which is kind of the hottest thing anyone has ever said to me, and for all my experience with sex I suddenly feel like a complete novice. Like there is this whole part of Sex Education I must have slept through. Because however comfortable I have ever been with a partner there has always been expectations, like I am expected to be the dude and lead the way. I am expected to make my partner come before I do. Like it’s only polite. I go down on her and then she might consider blowing me. Maybe.

But this is Matteo. This is my Matteo and my performance anxiety is going through the roof whilst I am laughing my head off.

‘’Fucking love this.’’ I howl whilst he tugs at my hair, making my neck bend back until his mouth is right on my pulse point and then he just jerks his hips a little. Just giving my cock another little bit of friction and my breath hitches until I am holding my breath and Matteo is licking lines down my collar bone whilst pulling at my hair and I am suddenly not laughing anymore. Instead I am squirming underneath him trying to thrust into his leg, just any kind of little movement to get some skin touching my own. Anything, whilst my fingernails are scratching into his back and he shouts out when I pull at his hair and try to flip him so I can crawl all over him.

He lets me, if only for a few seconds until I am back on my back and he is straddling my legs, pinning my wrists down by my hips with his hands, keeping them taught against the mattress by my side..

‘’Still’’ He demands and my cock jerks, squirting out an embarrassing strip of liquid.

Fuck. I have never done that before.

Then my cock does it again, because Matteo’s mouth just licked the tip of my cock. Well who would have thought. Matteo. The master of the blow job. Not that he is blowing me, he is just licking little patterns around my slit with the tip of his tongue whilst I am leaking like a faulty tap and moaning like a deranged kitten.

I have lost the plot. That’s clear. Any minute now men in white coats will burst through my bedroom door and wrap me in a straight jacket and take me away to a nice peaceful place where I will rock myself to sleep in a chair whilst drinking juice from a straw.

I still squirm and tug at the hold Matteo has on my wrists and moan and my dick weeps as he buries his face in my untamed pubes and my cock starts to involuntarily hump his face.

Yeah. I have no shame.

And Matteo is a fucking cock tease.

All _I_   want is to sink into his mouth.

All _he_ does is lick my shaft and stroke it with his stubbly chin and suck the liquid draining from my slit with greedy little noises and then once in a while he will look up at my face, like he is checking that I am actually still alive, which I could tell him that I am not, but he doesn’t bother to ask, just gives me a tiny little smile and then goes back to torturing my cock and letting his hands hold my wrists down even harder.

I’m sweating buckets now, droplets running down my forehead and my chest rising and falling dangerously fast and Matteo’s fist is now pumping my cock and I don’t think I am actually moaning anymore, it’s more like guttural shouting and weird non-human sounds and I have managed to get one hand loose as he finally takes the head of my cock into his mouth.

 

Me. Jonas Augustin. 18.

 

I kind of die.

 

I don’t know if it’s death by arousal or cock sucking or the sheer embarrassment of not being able to hold back, but Matteo, my best friend in the whole world, puts the head of my cock into his perfect mouth and I just come. Just like that. My hand ripping hair out of his skull and my hips thrusting violently into his mouth and my own mouth screaming out syllables that make no sense at all and I’m dead.

Yes and I should mention that Matteo chokes on the jug-full of spunk I deliver down his throat. He actually gags. Spits. Does that horrible sound like when you swallow something down the wrong way.

He coughs. Really horribly whilst I finally scramble to my senses and wrap him up in my arms and beat the shit out of his back with the palm of my hand.

‘’Dude’’ He squeals.

‘’You OK?’’ I pant. _Please be OK_.

 

He starts to laugh. Hysterically. Tears flowing down his cheeks as he still tries to calm the coughs brewing in his lungs.

‘’Dude, I have your spunk down my lungs. ‘’

 

It’s ridiculous. I agree.

 

I’m stark naked in my own bed. With Matteo. Also naked. Choking on my cum.

I shouldn’t laugh. Really. Honestly.

I should be curled up in embarrassment and shame. I should probably pack my things and move to another continent.

‘’I’m not very good at gay sex.’’ I stutter out between wiping the tears now flowing down my cheeks, as Matteo coughs again and then curls up on my shoulder.

I don’t even think. I just wrap my arms around him and press my mouth to his forehead.

‘’I fucking suck at blow jobs.’’ Matteo mutters. ‘’I tried to do what they do in porn. They never choke on it in porn, but then that was one hell of a mouthful. ‘’

 

Yeah, that makes me laugh even more, because like seriously?

 

‘’That was hands down the best blow job in the history of blow jobs. You can do that again, anytime. I’ll try to warn you when I am about to come next time. Promise. ‘’

 

I stroke his cheek. Kiss the tip of his nose. Bury my face in his hair whilst his arms hold me tight.

 

‘’I didn’t plan this.’’ I start.

‘’Do you regret it?’’ I can almost feel the prickle of anger brewing in his voice.

‘’Not for a second. Never. ‘’ I say, almost too loudly as I squeeze him against me.

 

He relaxes a little in my arms. Takes some deep breaths.

 

‘’I always dreamed, if I could just get to you. If I could just make you try, then maybe you would see. Maybe you could be open-minded enough to try to let me love you.’’

‘’Matteo. You don’t have to try. You love me. And I love you. And maybe this is the most stupid reckless thing you and I have ever done, but you don’t have to try to convince me that this is something we need to see where it leads. You and me. ‘’

I have to take another deep breath. Because this is big. Huge. Life changing.

‘’I want to see where this leads ‘Teo.’’ I finally say. I mean it. It’s new and sudden and frankly weird as hell, but Matteo laughs in my arms and presses his lips to my jaw. Right on the edge which is now officially my favourite thing. His lips on my skin. The ease of his body pressed against mine. The fact that we are sweaty and gross and there is spit and spunk all over my stomach. And the absolute fact that I don’t care. Not right now. Not at all.

‘’Let me tell you where it will lead.’’ Matteo looks at me and his eyes are back to normal. The way they glitter with laughter. The wrinkles around his eyes prominently creased as his mouth softens back into seriousness. ‘’I will love you so hard that you won’t stand a chance. I will love you until you realize that no one else will ever love you the way I do.’’

It’s a ridiculous statement and sounds childish coming from his lips but I soak up every word. Because somehow, I want that. Somehow, I want him to be everything that he is promising me. I want him to be mine. I want him to love me. I selfishly and foolishly want to believe that this is the answer, that I have finally found that elusive thing, the thing I was always searching for. Love. Acceptance. Unconditional and free.

‘’Then you shall love me.’’ I say, sounding all pompous and shitty, but he just laughs. Laughs and kisses my lips.

‘’Then feed me and I shall love you.’’ He sasses back whilst my tongue flicks the tip of his nose.

‘’We might have Frosties. And Nutella.’’ I whisper.

‘’That will do.’’ He smiles.

****

A week later, and my life is miraculously fine. Not back to normal in any sense, and things are weird as fuck, but I am managing. I am turning up at school every morning like clockwork, parking my arse on a wooden chair, next to Matteo, who surprisingly is all cool about the avalanche of rumours hanging around at school. He nods. High fives. Owns the corridors where girls nod at him and blokes sidestep when he ploughs through the crowds without a care in the world. If I didn’t know better I would say he’s out and proud, apart from the moments when he stops around a corner and just hyperventilates into his hands. He’s struggling, shell-shocked and full of anxiety that he somehow manages to hide behind at school. Then he goes home afterwards, giving me lame excuses why we can’t hang out.

****

I told you things were weird as fuck. I mean we kind of had sex last Tuesday and now it’s Friday a week later and I haven’t even kissed him since. Not for lack of trying, hence the dark corners and little nooks and crannies that I try to drag him into, yet all he does is hyperventilates as I clumsily stroke his back and pet his head like a loser.

****

I need to talk to him, properly talk to him, not just spout juvenile crap with Carlos and the others, pretending we are back to normal. We are not back to normal in any sense of the word. Because I understand him better than anything now, the constant fear of being different. The constant panic in my veins, asking myself, am I ready for this? Am I out and proud? Am I out and proud enough for Matteo? Or am I crawling even deeper back into the closet that I didn't even realize that I was in? If you asked me straight out, I couldn’t give you an honest reply. I don’t know. I haven’t got a clue. And my lame pathetic excuses for  not texting him at night before I go to bed? Little pathetic hearts and stupid memes? I can’t even say it out loud. That I wish he was there with me. That I miss him. That I want more than this. That I want him.

****

I don’t even know if that’s the truth.

It all comes to a head on the next Friday night, when we are all supposed to be at someone’s party and I am having a full anxiety attack over the fact that Matteo and I will have to share oxygen in close quarters in front of half the school. Which we do every fucking day, but throw alcohol in the mix and a bit of weed and dancing and heavy music? Yeah. You get the idea. I would not be able to keep my hands off him, and of course Hanna would be there keeping an eye on my every move, since I am apparently being weirder than usual according to her latest text.

****

You can say that again.

****

I don’t make it to the party. I sit on my bed like a loser, shaking with fear and anger and worry and confusion.

 

I am not gay.

 

I am so fucking gay for Matteo that it’s not even funny.

 

I am heartbroken and confused and used and abused and I have NEVER in a million years felt this weird. So yes, Hanna, thankyou. I am behaving much weirder than usual.

****

I can hear the doorbell, and my Mum's cheerful voice, and I don’t register him at first. Not until he closes my bedroom door behind him and his….my….jacket drops to the floor with a clunk of all the stuff he keeps in the pockets.

****

“Hey.” he says.

“Wassup?” I say casually. Whilst I have sobs in my throat and I am pathetically trying to be all cool about this. I am not. Cool.

****

“You didn’t turn up to the party.” He says. Lame Matteo. Totally Lame.

“Can we talk about it?” He continues, his voice all soft. Like he knows he’s been an arsehole all week and ghosted me like I'm a leper.

****

“Please.” I moan. “I’m not in a good place right now, ‘cause honestly? I don’t understand shit.”

****

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

****

Then we are silent. For the longest time. And maybe it’s comforting in a way that he’s just here, that he doesn’t flinch or fidget, he just lets me sit here and breathe, whilst he breathes with me. In peace and quiet.

****

“I had this stupid idea that this would be a fairy tale or some shit.” He says. “Like if I could just kiss you, you would see how awesomely hot this was and I would just hump you a bit and turn you totally gay.” He breathes loudly, kind of like trying to gather a little bravery to continue. Continue to totally crush me no doubt, because I hear what he is saying and I am squirming with the embarrassing fact that he is totally right. Again. He usually is.

“I thought that if I could just get to you, and show you how good it could be, how you and I would make this amazing couple if I could just get you to fall in love with me. And I asked Hanna to help me, which I agree was a totally shit move. I asked her to tell you that I was in love with you.”

****

“So you knew? You fucking knew I knew??” I almost scream out.

“Look I wasn’t thinking straight, and I was getting desperate. You wanted to get back with Hanna, and I didn’t want that to happen, at least not until I had tried. I just wanted to try.”

****

If I was confused before, I am fucking mega confused now.

****

“You wanted me to know you were in love with me? Why the FUCK did you just not talk to me? Instead of turning all this into a fucking circus?”

“Because I am a shit person and I am a bloody coward. And Hanna told me so. She told me just to talk to you. I mean she found out when she borrowed my phone, or when Mia borrowed my phone, or whatever and I had to do something. I didn’t want to mess up, but I messed up a whole lot. I realize that.”

****

“I’m not following you now." I sit up straighter and throw my hands around, just trying to get my head around all of this. "You are in love with me, and we made out, and we had the best sex I have ever had and we kissed and cuddled, and then? Then we go back to school and you freeze up whenever I come near you, you won’t let me touch you, you won't even look at me. It’s ridiculous and to be honest Matteo? It worked. You drive me crazy and I don’t know what to do, because I think I am in love with you and I want to be with you and now you are here and I haven’t got a clue what is happening right now.”

****

I’m so out of breath that it’s honestly stupid.

****

“You’re not in love with me Jonas. That is what is happening right now. I thought I was doing this right, but I was wrong all along. You are in love with Hanna, and you probably will be for a very long time. She is in love with you, and she needs you. And I am once again in the middle, fucking it all up. She cried on the phone earlier, calling me every name under the sun, because I made her do it. I made her give you up, and now you are being all weird, when you must know it, you must see it as clearly as I can see it. “

****

“See what?” I don’t know weather to be angry with him or be relieved or if he wants me to hug him or what. I am lost. I am so fucking lost.

****

“You don’t look at me, the way you look at Hanna, and I am not sorry for that. I tried, but I want the fairy tale. I want the person I love to fall hopelessly and desperately in love with me, and you, you might think this is something that could become something else, but it’s not. Because you are, and will always be my best friend, but you are not my person. You are not the guy who will love me forever. You are not my soulmate and my freaking knight in shining armour, however much I was hoping that you would be. It’s not right. And I totally own up to that being my fault. I can’t make you fall in love with me. You said it yourself.”

****

I don’t know what it is, but it’s like someone has poured warm water over me. Like this relief is washing off me, because of course he is right. I tried. I tried so hard, despite everything, to do what I always do. Save Matteo. Love the shit out of him. Protect him and take care of him, I have done it my whole life, and this, this is just me doing what I thought it was my job to be doing. Making sure he is happy. Instead I have made him sad, I think to myself as he wipes a tear from his eye.

****

“You’re not my person, and you should go and get Hanna. You should tell her that you love her and you should fucking fight for her, because she is the only person that can make you happy. And I will have your back and be your best friend, but I promise, I promise, that will be it. And I am so so sorry. I should never have pulled this on you, but honestly, Jonas. I was desperate. I am in love with you, I'm so in love with you that I can't even think straight. But you don’t love me back, and that.....that is fine. I will live. I just hope that we can still be. You know. Us. Friends.”

****

I don’t think I have heard Matteo talk this much in ages. Like he’s found a whole new vocabulary and he is blurting out all these mature things that used to be kind of the things I would say. And now he is throwing them back in my face like he owns them.

****

Which he does. He’s awesome.

****

“Can I still get a cuddle?” I squeal out whilst my eyes fill with tears.

“Of course.” He hiccups. Whilst I awkward-laugh and he crawls into my arms and play wrestles me until we are all tangled up in a heap on my bed. Him with his hoodie over his head and his face pressed hard into my chest. Me with my arms around him. Breathing.

****

I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. He is drawing little circles with his finger on my back.

****

“So what happens now? Like, what are the rules now?” I whisper.

“The rules?”

“No more kissing?” I ask. I need to know. I need to know where we stand.

****

“No more kissing. Blowjobs. Sex. None of that. It’s not fair on me, and it’s not fair on you. We are friends. Who cuddle. Because this is nice. I think we sometimes need this.”

****

“Cuddles are awesome.” I start. Then I stop. Because I need to say something too.

****

“I would have loved you, you know. I would have tried so fucking hard.” I say. And I can feel the tears pooling into my eyes.

****

“I know you would have.” He whispers back. “ And it would have killed us in the end, because in the end you would have resented me and I would have been heartbroken.”

****

“Instead now I am heartbroken.” I try to deadpan whilst he presses his body against mine, just a little harder, like he is trying to soothe me.

****

“You’ll be over it in a week. And anyway, you have to go and get your girl. Because the two of you are skirting around the very obvious elephant in the room.”

****

“Yeah.” I say. I don’t sound convinced.

****

“You love her. She loves you. You were brilliant together when you weren’t too busy fucking it all up.”

****

“That was your fault.” I try to smile. Hoping he will take it as a joke. It is a joke.

****

“Arsehole.” he laughs softly.

****

“One day.” I start. “ One day you will run into this bloke, and he will come out of nowhere, and you will just take one look at him and go _OH FUCK_.”

****

“Oh fuck.” he replies softly. Like he is tasting the words and then he looks up at me, almost expectantly. Like I am supposed to wring out the fairy tale of his life. Which of course I will.

****

“He will just suddenly be there, in your life, all around you, and he will start invading your head at night, he’s all you can think off. All that you want to think of. He’ll become important to you and you will start to obsess over him and then you will realize one day that it all makes sense. Because he is your person. Because he belongs to you. Because he is right and you are his person too and after that, your life will never be the same, because it’s an amazing feeling to be loved, and to love the person who loves you back.”

****

“You need to go get Hanna.” He mutters softly.

****

“And you need to get your boy.” I sass back, whilst my heart churns. I'm not sure I am ready for all that.

****

He smiles, but there is sadness there. I wonder if things will ever be the same. I wonder if this was a mistake. I wonder if I should have fought for him, if I should have insisted he was wrong? Perhaps I should have just kissed him and made him forget all the stuff he wanted to say? But then. I know he is right. This was him trying to get what he wanted, and this was me trying to do the right thing.

****

We were both wrong.

****

“Are we good?” I whisper. I hope we are.

“We are good.” He whispers back.

****

“So on Monday, when I see you at school? Will you sit next to me and hang out with me?” I try to sound snarky and cocky. I fail. If I'm not careful I will start to cry, all these bottled up emotions churning inside of me.

“On Monday? Will you stand up for the gay dude? Sit next to me? Hang out with me?” _He_ sounds snarky and cocky. The little shit.

****

“Dude. You are looking at me, mate. I’m your best friend. I am most probably bisexual. Or at least somewhere on the spectrum, I mean my cock has met another cock and he liked it. I have no right to be judgemental anywhere. Remember that when your mouth starts spouting shit.”

****

He laughs softly into my shoulder.

****

We’re good. At least I think we will be.


End file.
